Bedtime
by Keishi
Summary: Zell and Irvine go to Squall when they get booted out of their dorms. [yaoi]


Title: I Hate Giving Things Titles So This One Doesn't Get One (okay, fine, call it _Bedtime_)

Author: Keishi

Rating: They swear. A lot. So G. -smiles- Just kidding. R for suggestiveness.

Characters: Zell, Squall, Irvine.

Disclaimer: The day I own them is the day Rinoa gets erased from the game, just because she's so pointless. I say make Irvine the Sorceress! Er, I mean, Sorcerer. Either way, not mine.

Summary: If I couldn't take the time to at least inject a decent plotline into this fic, what makes you think it deserves a summary? -OR- Zell and Irvine go to Squall when they get booted out of their dorms.

Squall wrenched the door open only after the insistent, continuous knocking finally woke him up, at after three o'clock in the morning, no less. Instantly awake and angry, his glare was already in place for the person who dared disturb his slumber. "What?" he ground out through teeth threatening mutiny the moment they were unclenched. The left canine was quite certain it was about to split in two.

Correction, _persons_. Irvine and Zell switched guilty glances, bedding in their hands. "Uh, Squall?" Zell began tentatively. He chuckled a bit, wanting to bolt that very second rather than stand there a moment longer with Death Glare 4000 glaring him into Swiss cheese. "Irvine and me were uh, well..." he trailed off, his laugh turning into more of a staccato whine, like that of a particularly weak motor scooter sputtering and dying.

Irvine exhaled and shot Zell an exasperated look. "Look, Squall, Selphie and her Trabian girlfriend came back, drunker'n Zell on nighttime cold medication, and decided that they were going to occupy our-- I mean, _Zell's_--" he flushed pink-- "room. When we tried going back to mine we found that the construction on that half of the dorms hadn't wrapped up yet, so, uh, yeah, canwesleepinyours?" He finished rapidly, gritting his teeth at Zell's elbow's insistence that he hurry it up. "_Fuck off, Dincht,_"he hissed.

"_Shove it,_" Zell whispered back, before turning his attention back on a rather pissed and lethargic Squall. "So, is it cool? Can we stay here for the night?"

Squall glared at the two men, one dressed in torn footie pajamas, the other only in boxers and beginning to shiver quite violently, huddling into the other for warmth. He then opened the door only marginally wider and stepped to the side half an inch, allowing them both just enough entrance into the room.

"Thanks, man," Zell muttered as he shuffled past, Irvine on his heels. Squall just turned abruptly and stalked back to his bedroom.

"Couch," he pointed as he passed, pausing at the threshold. "Goodnight." The door was shut with finality.

"Didn't Squall seem to be channeling Fujin?" Irvine wondered aloud, throwing his bedcovers onto one end of the dilapidated couch.

"Just be glad he didn't grunt at us," Zell replied, curling up on the other end, watching Irvine smooth out a blanket. "Dude, quit that and just go to sleep."

Settling in, Irvine curled up on his side. "I am so gonna kill Selphie in the morning. Damn, this couch is lumpy," he muttered.

Zell shifted, trying to get comfortable. "You ain't kidding. Hey!! Watch it, Mr. Cold Toes!" Zell bolted up on the couch, wrapping himself into a ball and glaring at Irvine.

"Watch it, yourself. At least I don't have annoying leg stubble. I mean really, what man would shave their legs? Or at least proclaim to shave their legs and then go three days without doing it, _just_ to annoy the other person in bed with their scratchy shins? Fuck, this couch is _uncomfortable_." Irvine glared at the bedroom door, cursing Squall and his most likely soft and pillowy bed.

"It makes me more aerodynamic in battle, alright? Besides, I like the way it feels," Zell pouted, rubbing his legs together.

"Maybe you do, but I could do without all the scratchiness. Though," he grinned a decidedly wicked grin, "I have to admit when they are nice and smooth, its quite fun to run my tongue--"

"Shh!" Zell clamped a hand over Irvine's mouth. "Do you _want_ Squall to hear?!"

Irvine shrugged, licking the palm of Zell's hand until he let go. "He's probably dead to the world by now, Zell. You remember how he used to sleep on missions; curled up in the fetal position and out of it before you could even finish a Sleep spell." He glanced back at the bedroom door. "I bet he wouldn't even wake up if we were to crawl in bed with him right now."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Kinneas?"

Irvine wiggled his sore butt. "What I'm saying is, now I know how you feel after sex, as I'm getting anally raped by a couch spring, it seems." He laughed when Zell whapped him on the arm, wincing only a bit. Boy didn't know his own strength. "Why don't we sneak into Squall's room and cuddle with our Mr. Leader, huh? It's _got_ to be better than this."

Zell bit his lip, huddling into his blanket. "Irvine, I don't know..."

"Come on," Irvine chided, "like I said, he sleeps like the dead. He won't even know we're there!"

"Until morning, when he wakes up and proceeds to chase us around the whole of Garden wielding Lionheart," Zell pointed out.

"Yes, _but_ by then we'd have had a good night's sleep, and would have the energy to be chased around. Hell, just think of it as a morning workout," Irvine argued diplomatically, running a hand up Zell's arm. "Come on," he wheedled. "For me?"

Never one to take Irvine's pouty puppy face for too long, Zell finally gave in. "Alright, but when he demands to know what we're doing there, I'm claiming that you're secretly a sorcerer and you mind-raped me into doing it."

"Deal."

The door slid open without a sound as the pair entered the bedroom on silent, bare (or almost bare) feet. Moonlight shone into the room, silhouetting a sleeping Squall, curled up just as Irvine predicted, facing the wall. His slight, bare-chested body only took up a fraction of the bed.

"You go first," Zell hissed, poking Irvine in the ribs. Irvine swung around to glare at Zell, but approached the bed, easing onto it with one knee. Squall not once shifted. Irvine blew out a breath.

Had Squall woken up at all during the agonizing five minutes it took Irvine to climb over and position himself in front of him, he probably would have assumed the cowboy was there to fuck him, Zell thought with much internal giggling, as he watched Irvine slink over their commander's body. The sniper was comical in his slow, wide-legged attempt to not disturb Squall. At one point their faces were barely a few inches apart, Irvine's lax ponytail falling over his shoulder to brush Squall's nose. Zell's eyes widened, certain Squall was going to wake any second to find Irvine half-straddling him, but all the commander did, without even waking, was sneeze. Right into Irvine's face. Zell had to clamp both hands over his mouth to keep from howling at the expression on Irvine's face at that moment.

Wiping his face with the back of one hand, Irvine scowled distastefully at Zell, then settled down in front of Squall. It was now Zell's turn.

Zell found his position to be infinitely easier to reach, gently settling his weight in one solid line against Squall's back. Using one arm as a makeshift pillow, Zell lay his other arm across both Squall and Irvine's bodies, and closed his eyes. Irvine was right, Zell mused, this _was_ a lot more comfortable.

"Zell," he heard Irvine hiss a moment later, "quit grabbing my butt!"

Zell's eyes popped open. "Irvine, I'm _not_ grabbing your butt."

"Then, what the--" Irvine twisted, turning his head to look over at Zell. Instead, his eyes met a steady silver-blue gaze. "Oh, uh... hi, Squall," he said, voice suddenly strangled.

"Kinneas," Squall said, whether in greeting or warning Irvine wasn't sure. He then closed his eyes and settled more firmly between the two men. "Sleep well," Squall murmured.

Stunned, Irvine just lay there, facing the wall. After a moment, he realized that Squall's hand was still on his ass. Raising his head, he looked at Zell, who stared back wide-eyed. "What?" Irvine mouthed.

Zell shook his head, startled.

"You won't believe where his other hand is right now."

----

End.

I'll let you decide who's wearing what.


End file.
